


eyes like sinking ships

by cyclothimic



Series: express [8]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drug Use, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Happy Ending, Humor, One Shot, POV Clarke Griffin, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Romance, Stand Alone, Substance Abuse, but not in the way you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28528425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyclothimic/pseuds/cyclothimic
Summary: "I'm fine.""I can believe everything you say, but I can never believe it when you say you're fine.""I'll be okay. I'm okay. As long as you're okay."-or Lexa and Clarke are co-stars, and Clarke can't drink away the crush.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Costia/Lexa (The 100)
Series: express [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1143338
Comments: 9
Kudos: 181





	eyes like sinking ships

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chanrau](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Chanrau).



> i didn't think i'd write clexa after resurgam, but this is for chanrau from the site that must not be named. i took this fake dating au to a different direction and i hope you won't hate it. thanks for the coffee!
> 
> now, read, ponder, and enjoy!

_I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush;_

_I don't like that anybody would die to feel your touch;_

_Everybody wants you._

_Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you._

_-Taylor Swift, gold rush_

* * *

Glamor and fame. Riches and jewels. Arm candies and NDAs. There were perks to being a known celebrity who was well sought after not only in the Hollywood circle, but also internationally as well, especially a celebrity who had been nominated for two Oscars and one Golden Globe in the past.

Much like anyone else, there was a time when Clarke Griffin took advantage of her standing in Hollywood. She slept with whomever she wanted to sleep with and made them sign airtight NDAs. She huffed coke and she drank a fuck ton of alcohol that had more of than not caused her to be late on set. She bought houses and cars and a couple of horses, just because she could.

She was a good actress and she could do anything. In the back of her mind, she thought that she _could_ get away with anything because of her talents and name. In no way had she ever expected real life to catch up in the form of Thelonious Jaha firing her from set, recasting her role without much delay and warning her that she would have no future in the industry if she didn't clean up her act.

It was then when she asked Octavia to find her an effective and expensive rehabilitation rehab off the coast of Cincinnati. Her stint made a big splash in all the tabloids and even Variety for a quick bite there. And as expected, being a former addict, no lots in Hollywood would want her stepping in without risking her stench tainting their quarters.

She wasn't surprised. She'd learned a lot in rehab, and had honestly strived to be rid of all the bad habits to get back on her feet, no matter how hard she had to work to place her name at the top of multiple billings again, even if it meant having to work small television roles. That was why she'd been surprised when veteran producer Marcus Kane had called up Octavia, asking to meet with Clarke.

And then Marcus basically told her that he was willing to give Clarke a chance, despite all her mistakes and mishaps, because he could spot the talent in her from a mile away. He asked her not to screw it up again, or she'd be sent out to the pastures and there would be no more chances. He asked her to do a chemistry test with Lexa Woods, also an actress well sought after _everywhere_ in the acting circuit, an actress who'd actually _won_ an Emmy for a single guest role on a television show.

Lexa Woods, with the viridian green eyes and the stoic jawline and the brightening smile. Lexa Woods, who entered the room and shook Clarke's hands and quaked her entire world apart with her voice.

One meeting with Lexa Woods, and Clarke knew she was in more trouble than she'd ever been in.

* * *

"Guess what?"

"What?"

Lexa lingered behind her as she sat in the makeup chair, offering sideway smiles at the makeup artists currently polishing up all the flaws on Clarke's face, because everyone's face had flaws. Well, everyone, except for Lexa Woods, apparently.

"They have sushi at craft services."

"Really? You're excited about sushi?"

"Marcus is a cheapskate. We have _sushi_. It's a once in a blue moon thing, I'm pretty sure."

As an actress, it was an early lesson that an actress should not fidget or move a single facial muscle above the mouth while the makeup artists were doing their work. Otherwise, the actress would not be a favorite among the artists, therefore not on the receiving end of the best gossip or efficiency that a makeup artist always had to offer.

Therefore, while she was sitting in this chair, Clarke was basically exerting all her self-control to not even move a blemish on her cheek in reaction to the grin that Lexa was shooting her in the reflection of the mirror. Clarke kept still and her fingers fidgeted on the handles of the chair, but she did not facially react, because she couldn't disturb the artist or show all her cards at once.

"We only just got in, Lexa. How'd you even already find out what they're serving at crafty?" she exclaimed.

Lexa narrowed her eyes and scoffed. "Please. _You_ just got in. If you'd actually looked at the call sheet, you'll notice that I've been here for two hours. A girl's allowed to starve, no matter what the conservatives like to think," she complained and patted Clarke's shoulders in a friendly manner – nothing she would do could be more than friendly, as Clarke liked to convince herself.

"I'll be in this chair for another half an hour, at least."

"Fifteen minutes," Harper, the makeup artist, corrected with a teasing smile. "It's a simple one today."

"Fifteen minutes," Clarke iterated, resigning to her fate of gorging sushi today.

"Madam McIntyre, you're a joy to the world," Lexa complimented, smacking a kiss on the other blonde's cheek and eliciting a blush from her, even though she was painfully heterosexual. The brunette seemed to have that effect on everyone, regardless of their sexuality. "I'll see you at crafty in 15 minutes, Griffin," she said with a wink before hopping out of the makeup trailer.

Clarke couldn't keep her eyes off of Lexa's disappearing figure even if she wanted to. Ever since she'd met the woman, her heart had passed in flying colors in reacting erratically at the woman's presence and departure, as if she'd somehow, along the way, given her heart away to Lexa Woods without her even consenting to it.

Back in the day, she would have been relentless in pursuing Lexa to join her in bed. She would have utilized her infamous charms and stealth to at least sneak an actual kiss from the other lead of the film they were shooting. She would have made this a whirlwind romance, but she perhaps wouldn't ditch Lexa like she did the others, because who could ever walk away from Lexa?

Now, though, Clarke was a changed woman. She went from weed to cigarettes – a woman had gotta cope somehow. She no longer batted her eyes at every attractive person she knew. She barely watched porn now, for god's sake. And most importantly, she had stepped away from the role of homewrecker, choosing to stay in her own lane.

And that was the problem. She wouldn't be a homewrecker, and Lexa had a home with Costia Greene, up and coming country singer who was definitely beautiful in her own way. Together, they made a lovely couple, a _happy_ couple somehow even more popular than the likes of Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds, which was a pretty impressive feat in itself.

The Clarke pre-rehab wouldn't have cared. The Clarke post-rehab would never destroy a couple, much less a happy couple, especially Lexa's relationship with Costia.

* * *

Arms swinging violently at her sides, the blonde stormed into the conference room, where Lexa was with Anya, reading over some documents. They looked up, flinching a little at the way Clarke had slammed the door open, which rattled some of the picture frames hanging in the room.

"And just what the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed, standing on the other end of the long conference table.

Lexa raised a brow for a moment, and then she sighed and turned to Anya. "Can you give us the room?" she muttered. Anya obeyed and slinked out of the room, but not before throwing Clarke a dirty glance. The door closed behind her, leaving only Clarke and Lexa in the room. "My job. If you remember, I have one. Or are you too used to being spoon fed by daddy dearest?"

"Don't you bring my family into this," Clarke hissed, quickly rounding the table to crowd up to Lexa, their chests basically pressing against one another save for a minuscule space. Up close, Clarke was even more struck the vividness of Lexa's eyes.

"Or what?"

"You promised me."

"I didn't promise you anything. In fact, I clearly remember…" Lexa drifted off, eyes flickering across Clarke's face. And then she sighed, taking a step back and putting her hands with a guilty smile on face. "I clearly _don't_ remember my line," she announced to a few goodhearted laughs from the crew.

The blonde heaved a breathless laugh, taking the opportunity to turn away from her co-lead so that Harper can touch up her face again. The makeup artist was throwing a knowing look at Clarke, which she willfully ignored in favor of wiping her clammy palms on the material of her pencil skirt. God, she was a professional. Get it together.

It didn't help that Costia was currently sitting in Lexa's trailer, waiting for her girlfriend. She'd claimed that she wasn't big enough to willingly watch Lexa being so up close with another woman, even if it was for the job that paid her bills.

Anya strode back into the makeshift conference room with a grin on her face, shaking her head at the two of them. She slinged an arm around her sister, who was reading the script that her assistant had handed over to her while the crew reset the scene. In the background, the director was yelling that they would start the line about Clarke's fictional father.

"My sister, everyone. She won an Emmy but still can't remember her lines," Anya teased, and mockingly clicked her tongue.

Lexa nudged Anya's waist with a fond twitch to her lips. "Hey, Clarke, Costia invited you to join us for lunch after this," she said. "You up for it?"

No. _No_. A million times no. There was no way in hell she would be able to sit there and just watch Lexa and Costia be the most perfect couple while wishing that _she_ was the one who was sitting next to the brunette and kissing the bejesus out of her.

"Yes," was what came out of her mouth.

Honestly, there simply was no way that an average human could say no to the entirety of this woman, especially not when she looked so angelic while happy. Clarke had resigned herself to never being able to say no for the duration of the filmmaking, no matter how hard she tried to deny it.

* * *

It was the third week of shooting, and Clarke had had lunch with Costia and Lexa for nearly everyday since she'd first shown up on set. In the meantime, she learned many things about their relationship, from how they first met – Costia had a cameo on a film Lexa did – to their first date – a picnic in Central Park that was well publicized because paparazzi was the words.

Deep inside, she resented Lexa for not seeing it, not seeing how much Clarke had to suffer in her pretense of nothingness. She did not resent Costia, because the woman didn't know anything.

If there was anything she resented Costia for, it was that she was kind of the perfect woman. Seriously, Clarke could testify to that after so many lunches together, where Costia had been inhumanely kind and courteous. She'd never failed in making sure Clarke left with a full stomach and remembered every single thing Clarke talked about. It really didn't take long for her to stop wondering as to why Lexa had fallen for Costia in the first place.

She resented Costia for not being resentful. At all. It gave Clarke no reason to hate her – she genuinely liked Costia as a person, and she hated that. Because here she was, silently struggling with an unhealthy obsession over her girlfriend, and she couldn't do anything about it; she couldn't break up this perfect almost-marriage.

Costia Greene was perfect. Lexa Woods was even more perfect. Clarke Griffin was no more than the woman who still, apparently, had homewrecker roots in her, because she couldn't stop herself from falling for a taken woman. Clarke Griffin was not perfect.

* * *

Rehab was, in short, lifechanging. Steered her life on the right path and set her on the straight and narrow.

Drugs were no longer part of her life, which meant that her wayward friends who supplies those drugs had been completely cut off. Sex was – well, rehab didn't dictate that sex was completely off the books, but by her own vocation, she'd been pretty dry since her exit from rehab six months ago; she'd never gone this long without sex. Alcohol was a big no-no, regardless of how much she looked at the liquids and yearned for them.

Clarke had done a pretty good job in staying away from all those things, if only to maintain her balance and make sure she never needed another stint in rehab. But tonight was a different story – tonight, all those things were tempting. She wanted to get high and drunk and have some mediocre orgasms just so she could forget about the sight before her.

A casual Lexa. A laughing Lexa. A Lexa who could dance and sing like nobody's business. When Lexa let loose, she _let loose_. The cast and crew of the film had been invited out for a night of relaxation and forgetting about work, and the woman had been buying all the rounds since they showed up at the club and were offered two exclusive booths in the VIP section, courtesy of Lexa and Clarke's names on the billing.

"Dance with me," Lexa urged.

Clarke shook her head firmly and nursed her hot chocolate – the bartender had given her an odd look when she placed her order, having known her reputation firsthand. "No."

"Come on," Lexa whined, tugging on Clarke's flimsy hand. It wasn't the first time they held hands, but Clarke still didn't want her to ever let go.

"Absolutely not," Clarke rejected resolutely.

The brunette only sighed. She'd come to know Clarke's determination a little too well over the month they'd been working together, all up in each other's personal spaces and reciting all the lines as dictated in the script. She only hadn't known that Clarke wanted the happy ending between their characters in the script to be reflected in real life as well.

Thankfully, Lexa left her alone with a brief peck on her cheek that left her heady. Clarke sat there, lips attached to the mouth of her cup, but not drinking a sip of it. She looked around her, stubbornly refusing to see Lexa mixing in with the dance crowd. She watched as people exultantly gulped their alcoholic drinks, even noticing puffs of white powder intermittently.

Then her eyes inadvertently traveled to the dance floor below, spotting Lexa immediately. She swallowed a mouthful of saliva at the sight before her.

Lexa had always been sexy. She had the legs and the waist and the smooth tawny skin that made up the Emmy-award winning actress. Clarke had always found herself speechless when she saw Lexa strolling onto set in one of her pantsuits, as her character was prone to wear. But this, this was different, because this club was intoxicating and she could smell the cocaine in the air and _god_ , Lexa looked entirely too ravishing in these unforgiving strobe lights.

Clarke decided she wasn't strong enough for this, so she took her cigarette pack from her bag, raced down the stairs, and hurried out of the backdoor of the club, where there was no paparazzi waiting to get a shameful shot of her. She leaned against the wall of the alley and nodded a few other patrons who'd come out here for a smoke as well.

Cigarettes would never be a good replacement for a good joint, but it would have to do for now. She was on her second stick when the door creaked open again, and out stepped Lexa, whose cheeks were all too red from the alcohol. The brunette made her way to Clarke's side and leaned against the wall as well.

"Those are bad for you."

"So you've told me."

"Can I have one?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Lexa asked, almost whined – it was most likely the alcohol getting to her brain.

"Because these are bad for you," Clarke echoed, waving the burning cigarette in the air. "Yes, I'm a hypocrite. You can stand there and watch me smoke."

There was a moment of silence, and then Lexa shifted her entire body around so her side was resting against the wall and her head bumped against it. Her eyes pinned Clarke in place, preventing her from inhaling another lungful of nicotine.

Those usually clear green eyes were bleary, a little cloudy, covering all the flecks of gold that Clarke adored so much. Lexa was very messy currently and would need a few people to escort her home. She would have a terrible hangover the next morning. And yet, Clarke couldn't stop looking at her, because a messy and tipsy Lexa made for a Lexa at her prime.

Still, even under the bleariness and cloudiness, there was a sense of…consciousness in her expression. Like she was totally aware of what she was doing. Like she was searching for something. Like she wasn't sure what she was searching for.

"You're a good person, Clarke." The blonde hummed in question. "You always accompany me to crafty. You sit with me but you don't drink with me. You always… _hear_ me. You don't always see me –" Dear god, Lexa had no idea how wrong she was "– but you always hear me. No one's ever heard me like that since Anya."

Okay, Clarke was starting to grow concerned now. She tossed the cigarette aside and stood upright, nearing the other woman. "Lexa, you okay?" she asked carefully.

"I'm tired," Lexa muttered, eyes still locked onto Clarke. "God, and you're beautiful too. You're like the perfect package."

"I've been to rehab."

"Everybody makes mistakes."

"I can't quite imagine you making mistakes."

Unexpectedly, Lexa burst into laughter. _Heaps_ of laughter. So hard that she had pushed away from the wall to keel over her waist and rest her palms on her thighs kind of laugh. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say that Clarke jumped at the noise coming out of the person before her.

And Clarke, even though a little bit scared, couldn't help but get a little more enamored. Lexa had always been in control of herself, smiling only marginally, moving only marginally, doing everything only marginally, as if she wouldn't recognize herself if she did anything more than marginally. Even her dance moves were controlled and rehearsed.

But now, there was nothing marginal about the way she was laughing with little snorts in between. She had let herself go, and Clarke wondered how she hadn't seen this before. Oh right, because she was only a colleague at worst and a friend at best, she wasn't important enough to be this privileged, not until now.

"My biggest mistake was agreeing to a sham before I met you," Lexa muttered breathlessly, still keeled over but sobering up. She leaned back against the wall again and looked at Clarke. "Yeah, yeah, I make mistakes."

Clarke's brows furrowed at the bridge of her nose. "What are you talking about?"

Lexa waved her hand aimlessly and her head lolled here and there. "It's nothing. It's nothing," she slurred. "I'm just –" She gulped and blinked rapidly "– I think I'm gonna go home now. I'm tired."

The blonde nodded and stepped near the brunette. "Okay, okay, come on. I'll get a cab for us."

"No, no, you should stay. Have fun."

"I can't have fun if I can't drink, Lexa," Clarke muttered with a well-mannered chuckle, sliding Lexa's arm around her shoulders and almost collapsing under the alcoholic weight. "God, you're heavy for someone so slight."

"It's muscle."

"Yeah, I figured."

It was fairly easy to flag a cab, given this was a pretty busy street and there were around five pubs in a block. Every cabbie would make good money just driving drunks – Clarke would know; she'd tipped her fair share of cab drivers back in the day.

While she successfully deposited Lexa in the backseat, she couldn't help but throw a wistful look at the club they'd left. All the drugs and the drinks. All the substances she would need to forget about Lexa's unabashed laughter and warm body and pine scent. All of those things inside a little premise, accompanied by pumping loud music and great people; if only she hadn't sent herself to rehab and been disciplined enough to set a goal for herself.

* * *

Even before she had met Lexa, she had read the script. And it wasn't a surprise to anyone that this was primarily a melodramatic movie surrounding two women who fell in love. There was no sex scene, thank god – Clarke wasn't sure if she'd be able to go through that without going through a mini stroke or ten.

But Clarke was still surprised when she realized that they would be filming the kissing scene. On her birthday. It was like karmic retribution or something; to break her heart after all the hearts she'd broken.

For as long as she'd been filming this project, she'd made herself forget about the kissing scene. Yes, she could handle all the scenes where they would be holding hands or just talking or fuming in each other's faces. She could hardly handle the cuddles and hugging, because their characters were very much in love but also very much in denial of their feelings for one another.

But this. _Kissing_. It was a whole other level of closeness that Clarke hadn't yet readied herself for. Her birthday was supposed to be peaceful and a celebration of another year close to death. Well, she supposed it stayed true, because she would be closer to dying once she'd kissed Lexa. She just knew it.

"Happy birthday," everyone threw at her happily as they walked past her on set. "Happy birthday," all around, from everyone, but the one person she wanted to hear it from the most.

Lexa had been mysteriously missing all morning. She'd seen the rest of the cast, all of whom had kissed her on the cheek and wished her a happy birthday. But Lexa – she just couldn't find the woman anywhere. Not in her trailer. Not in crafty. Not even in the library set that Lexa always hung out in.

The two of them hadn't actually talked about the kissing scene. They'd hardly seen each other since the drunken debacle, busy filming filler scenes and blocking. And today, it was her birthday and she would be kissing the woman she was sure she was in love with, and she couldn't the woman anywhere. It was doing unspeakably evil things to her body.

"Where have you been?" Clarke demanded as soon as she'd finally spotted Lexa standing on the set where they would be…kissing. Honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if Lexa failed to show up here today. "I've been looking for you!"

Lexa shook herself out of Clarke's grasp, giving the blonde a perfunctory smile that Clarke had only ever seen during their chemistry test. "Right, sorry, I had a thing with…Costia," she said hesitantly, her eyes pinched. "Sorry, I'm here now," she added with a reassuring nod.

"Is everything okay?"

"What? Oh, yeah, definitely. Everything's dandy," she said and turned to the director. "Are we ready to go?"

Clarke stood there, watching as Lexa flipped through the script and read through the margins. She watched as the makeup assistants did some last-minute polishing of her already perfect face. She watched as Lexa rigidly avoided looking into her eyes at all.

Right, of course. Kissing scenes could be uncomfortable. Plus, Lexa was already dating; she couldn't imagine what Costia would feel knowing that Lexa would be kissing another woman today, even if it was just for show – well, maybe not on Clarke's part.

* * *

"I'm fine."

"I can believe everything you say, but I can never believe it when you say you're fine."

"I'll be okay. I'm okay. As long as you're okay."

"You can't say things like that. Why would you say things like that when you know for a fact that you'll be leaving soon?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't – I promise I'm fine. It's nothing."

"Is it?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

And then Clarke rushed forward, tenderly holding Lexa's face in her hands, and pulled the woman towards her until their lips met.

Everyone was always talking about how first kisses could produce fireworks and heat rushing through their veins. Romance novels had it down to a T, where there would be tongues and passion and unadulterated pleasure.

Those were all myths. This wasn't it. This was quiet and calm. Everyone and everything else melting away, leaving only them with themselves, together. It was a reassurance and a confirmation, because Clarke knew, and now she _knew_. She knew that Lexa would be the one meteorite that would shift her entire world on its axis, and this kiss proved it.

She wasn't lost in her realization – she'd realized it a long time ago. Clarke was simply reveling in the confirmation of all her suspicions, and good god, how in love she was with the incredible woman in her arms. All those men and women from before paled in comparison.

"Cut!"

If only she could hold Lexa forever, she thought as she let go and listened to the director praising them for getting it in one take and watched as Lexa stepped away, her eyes dazed and locked on Clarke's own lips, a little regretful.

* * *

Clarke looked away for only a second, because her PA came by to check some emails that apparently urgently needed her approval. When she looked back, Lexa was gone.

She didn't exactly know what the purpose was or if she was even going to say anything, but she still searched for Lexa anyway. The sea of people didn't help in her quest, blocking her view every now and then. For a second, she spotted Costia a few feet away, chatting with Raven, but there was no Lexa. Much like she had been for the day, Lexa was simply…gone.

A large part of her had already given up in her search, until everyone started applauding and cheering. The cast and crew parted like red sea, and in between them was, well, Lexa, rolling in a cart with a cake on top. A cake with candles, rolled in by a woman who had a bashful smile on her face. Clarke blinked and allowed a grin to take over her entire face.

They all started singing, clapping as they went along with the generic birthday song, Lexa oddly being the loudest among them all. Or perhaps it was just Clarke's wistful thinking, wanting the brunette to always be the loudest part of her life, regardless of whether they were filming or not.

"Happy birthday, Clarke," Lexa whispered in her ear, placing a long kiss on her cheek.

For this moment, she didn't hold back. The blonde allowed her cheeks to burn at the closeness between them and the obvious efforts that Lexa had put into this surprise. She allowed her lips to spread as widely as possible. For this moment, she allowed her heart to burst at its full capacity and let it show on her face.

She leaned down, clasped her hands together at her chest, and closed her eyes. She wished.

For Lexa to be happy. For Lexa to be in her life for as long as possible. For her heart to be broken if it meant that she could be this joyful.

* * *

After half an hour of reprieve, where everyone ate cake and joked with each other, the cast and crew had dispersed, because they still had salaries to earn and families to feed. Clarke didn't have more scenes today, so she was free to go home, but she stayed behind anyway, because she'd promised Lexa a dinner later tonight.

And since she was staying behind, she might as well get the most of it, and what better way than to watch Lexa do what she did best, earning the awards she so well deserved. She stood by the trailer site, scrolling on her phone, smoking a cigarette, and avoiding her PA.

Stones crunched near her, alerting her to companion. She looked up, expecting to see Octavia or Bellamy – they were the only smokers she knew of here – only to find Costia standing a few yards away, also lighting a cigarette. Clarke raised her brows; she didn't expect Costia to be a smoker as well, what with being a Grammy-winning singer and all.

"Hey," Costia greeted with a friendly wave.

"I didn't know you smoke," Clarke commented, still shocked.

Costia snorted and shrugged. "Everyone has their vice." She leaned back against a trailer beside Clarke and hummed appreciatively as she exhaled a puff of smoke. "Happy birthday, Clarke," she offered. The blonde nodded in gratitude. "And as your birthday gift, I'm gonna tell you to go talk to Lexa."

"Pardon?"

The other woman had a mysterious smirk on her face, like she knew something Clarke didn't. She rested her head back against the trailer and repeated, "Talk to Lexa." Still failing to grasp the point of the conversation, Clarke only frowned deeper, waiting for more. "Look, Lexa's spent the last two days arranging for the cake and the secrecy among the cast and crew. I've never seen her so sprightly until the day she met you. She _sees_ you like she sees no one else," Costia rattled off.

The oddest part was there was no sense of jealousy or hatred in her words at all. It was like the singer was just spouting off facts she'd observed about Lexa, expecting Clarke to hear it all and, worse, understand it all.

"Talk to her."

"I'm sorry, Costia. I don't think – Lexa isn't that kind of person."

"You're right. She's not," Costia replied with a confident nod. "Listen to me. Trust me. Just go talk to her. You'll see."

Before she knew it, Clarke's feet were pushing her away from the trailer and out the decrepit hiding spot where smokers went to smoke. She walked backwards, eyes still on Costia, who was staring back at her with nothing but encouragement in her eyes. She didn't know what she was waiting for, but when Costia nodded, Clarke only swung around and pretty much sprinted in the direction of the production house.

Clarke wasn't a runner, but she _ran_. She ran like hell. Lexa was in the middle of doing a scene, she knew that, but she ran anyway. Her feet pounded on mud and then sad and then solid concrete floors. She shouldered past startled crew and cast members, muttering halfhearted apologies at them.

She wasn't even sure what she was running towards. She didn't even know what the hell Costia was on about. But her feet went on and her heart went away batshit crazy, and she was certain she didn't know how to do anything else but run towards the one woman who very quickly become an important anchor in her life in the short time they'd spent together.

She came to a screeching halt once she'd arrived to the set where Lexa was doing her scene. Her chests moved laboriously as she panted from the sprint she'd just done – no more, no way in hell was she ever going to run like that again.

Holy crap, how did Usain Bolt did it? Never mind Usain Bolt, how did Lexa convince herself to get up every morning to run twenty minutes as if it was a normal person thing to do?

"I've been looking for you." She swung around, still panting, to find Lexa standing behind her, looking extremely nervous for once. She must have seen something on Clarke's face, because she closed her eyes in exasperation in the next moment. "Costia told you," she said.

"Told me what?" Clarke questioned, grasping Lexa's forearm and pulling her to an isolated corner where no one could see or hear them. "She just told me to – she told me to talk to you, and I pretty much ran here like Forrest Gump or something. I'm not doing that again, by the way. Running is stupid and I can't believe you do it every morning."

"You – you ran?" Lexa asked, eyes wide, seemingly as shocked as Clarke was when she found out Costia smoked too. "Wow, how do you feel? Should I call an ambulance? Are you okay? Do you need coffee?"

"Not funny," Clarke grumbled, but smiled anyway when she saw the teasing quirk on Lexa's lips. "What is she talking about, Lexa?"

"Right. That." Lexa made a noise that was a cross between a groan and a whimper. Her eyes darted everywhere, looking but also not looking. "I – well, you remember that time when I was drunk in an alleyway and I told you a lot of things?"

"Wait, you remember that?"

"I'm a lucid drunk. Whatever that means." Lexa licked her lower lip and cleared her throat. She nodded resolutely to herself and then looked into Clarke's eyes. For a moment, the blonde wished she would look away again. "Remember the part about the sham before meeting you thing?" she asked, wincing as she voiced the words.

Clarke nodded. She remembered everything about that conversation. The way the streetlight did so well on Lexa's profile. The things she spoke. The dazed look in her eyes that were so arresting.

"It's not real. Me and Costia. That's the sham," Lexa blurted out.

Clarke blinked, frowning. "What?"

Lexa groaned again and brushed at the edge of her brow. "It was – it _was_ real, for awhile there. We were happy, me and Costia. But then somewhere down the road, we were just lost. And we would have broken up, but our agents convinced her to stay in it…if only just for show. Because our relationship brought our profiles to such levels that we apparently couldn't afford to break up. And I – well, I wasn't really looking for anyone, so I figured why not, right? We only have to pretend in public and be good friends in private. I had nothing to lose. Well, I had nothing to lose…until I met you at the chemistry read."

Clarke closed her eyes for a second, shaking her head, and opened them again. "I don't understand what you're saying."

"Tomorrow morning, Variety will release a piece on the termination of my relationship with Costia. It's over. Well, it's been over for a long time, but tomorrow, it'll be over to the rest of the world."

"Lexa, you're not making any sense."

"I love _you_ , Clarke," Lexa blurted out, her entire body jerking at the declaration, eyes wide and sincere as she stared at Clarke. "That's what I'm saying. Costia and I weren't real, and I couldn't keep up with the sham anymore, because you're an asshole who made me fall in love with you. Do you understand?"

For a few long moments, everything was quiet. Sure, the rest of the cast and crew were still milling about, Costia was probably on her second cigarette, Anya and Raven must have sneaked away to steal some time together, and here they were, hidden in a corner. Clarke couldn't hear anything but echoes of Lexa's confession in her ears.

"So all this time..." she drifted off.

"I'm sorry," Lexa whispered. "I could – I wanted to – I thought it was just a _crush_ , Clarke," she complained, her face twisted in an embarrassed grimace. "I thought it would pass and we could move on with our lives, me with my fake relationship and you with a lucky man or woman. But it didn't pass and I got drunk and almost laid it all out on the table for you." She sighed. "I don't really expect anything from you, but I figured I could try, you know."

"So that kiss just now was real?" Clarke asked.

"Yes," Lexa whispered.

"Can we do that again?"

Lexa did a double take at the request, gulping. And then she nodded, slowly, then enthusiastically. Before Clarke could even move, Lexa had already snaked her arm around Clarke's neck to tug her forward.

Their lips melted together. Lexa tasted like cake and apple cider, and a shiver ran up Clarke's kneecaps. She had to tighten her hold on Lexa so that she wouldn't fall into a heap at the _realness_ of this kiss. Current and molten fire, that was what this was.

"Nothing has been real until you came along," Clarke whispered.

"Good. That's good. Now, just kiss me more."

**Author's Note:**

> i've read a lot of fics where lexa's hopelessly in love with clarke and clarke doesn't realize it, so i've made it my life goals to turn things around, because LEXA IS EVERYTHING DAMN IT
> 
> kthxbai
> 
> oh, and if you're still interested in seeing my work, maybe have [gander here](https://cyclothimic.tumblr.com/post/611650626423816192/a-struggling-writers-tale), because i can use all the help i can get, or you can catch me at [embettah](https://twitter.com/embettah) on twitter.


End file.
